


sugar and salt

by GreenyLove



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Lazy Mornings, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Kageyama Tobio, Other, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Romantic Fluff, Slice of Life, Teasing, They/Them Pronouns For Kageyama Tobio, Trans Female Character, Trans Tsukishima Kei, vaguely canon but don't think too hard about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26408035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenyLove/pseuds/GreenyLove
Summary: They see themselves more clearly. Themselves, and each other.(Tsukki enjoys a lazy morning with her partner.)
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 11
Kudos: 85





	sugar and salt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kuramiyurights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuramiyurights/gifts).



> this fic is a gift for [kuramiyurights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuramiyurights) who requested established partners trans girl tsukki and nonbinary tobio having a lazy weekend morning. 
> 
> this was my first time writing tkkg but it was fun! who doesn't love lots of fluffy bickering?

“Cat or panda?”    


“Hah?” 

Tsukki sighs. She finishes twisting a towel around her wet hair and grabs her robe off the hook, along with the two face masks in question. If given the choice to stop their task and have a conversation in person, Tobio is content to yell between rooms. Cute, but stubborn. 

Fastening the silk snug around her waist, Tsukki pads to the kitchen. 

“Your sheet mask. Cat or panda?” She holds up both options. 

Tobio stands at the counter, methodically dicing their way through the selection of fruit on the counter. A pile of strawberries sit on the juice-stained cutting board. Tobio pauses, eyes flicking to the packages in Tsukki’s hands before dropping as though weighted down to where the edge of her robe hits her thighs. 

Tsukki huffs. A trimmed eyebrow inches towards her hairline. “Shall I choose for you? If you’re too distracted?” 

“What’s the difference?” Tobio asks, turning back to the cutting board with a red stain on their ears to match the strawberries. 

Tsukki brings the packages up to her nose, half-blind without her glasses. “The panda mask is honey bamboo, the cat one has collagen and fruit extracts.” 

“And? What’s the difference?” 

“You’re so uncultured.” Tsukki shudders, though the upward curl of her mouth betrays her. She slides into Tobio’s space, slipping a long arm around their waist. Mindful of the knife in Tobio’s hands — not that they would ever hurt her — she inches her hand across the counter, waits for an opening and steals away a slice of strawberry. “Pick, or I will.” 

Tobio hums, offhanded, twisting their neck to steal a kiss. They aren’t so quick to rile, these days. Not like high school, when it was easier to snipe at each other than admit they had anything meaningful in common. Now, years gone from Karasuno and so different from the awkward, tall teens stuck in the back of team photos — they see themselves more clearly. 

Themselves, and one another. 

The kiss is soft and sweet. Tobio tastes like mangos. 

“You choose,” they say when they pull apart. 

Tsukki shrugs. “Cat, then.” She steals another strawberry. “Are you almost done?” And another. 

“The more fruit you steal, the less goes into your smoothie.” Tobio glowers, but doesn’t stop her. 

Tsukki makes direct eye contact, picks up a whole strawberry, and bites. She ignores Tobio’s wrathful look, made less bone-chilling by the distracted way they watch berry juice dribble down her chin. 

“I’ll be in the bathroom.” 

Whatever retort Tobio mumbles is lost to the slick thunk of the paring knife, the sound of a door slamming shut in another apartment, the chirp of songbirds in the lemon tree outside. 

Tsukki meanders back to the bathroom, untwisting the soft microfibre towel from around her hair. The blonde waves reach past her chin now, more defined now that she conditions and treats it properly. Her eyes catch on the photo taped to the corner of the mirror: Tsukki and Tobio at Miwa’s salon, the first time Miwa cut and styled Tsukki’s hair. Under the elder Kageyama’s masterful hands, Tsukki’s dry untamed waves softened to golden silk with flattering layers and a sassy swoop of bang. 

The most remarkable part of the day came after, when Miwa did her makeup for the first time. 

Tsukki never wants to forget the feeling of Miwa’s cool fingers on her chin, the swipe of the powder brush across her forehead, the way her eyes and cheeks seemed somehow sharper and rounder all at once. 

She keeps the photo here, where she can see it and remember how euphoria swelled like a balloon in her chest. She loves herself, in that moment, but most of all she loves Tobio: they’re nothing more than a glimpsed reflection in the mirror, face half-blocked by their cell phone as they snap the photo. Tsukki can still see their proud grin. 

It reminds her of the court, the same ferocity as when Tobio would set a ball so high only Tsukki could reach. Not the hunger to score the point, but the gleam in their eye after that said Tsukki not only met their expectations, but exceeded them. 

She taps that smirk now, traps it beneath her finger and breathes it in. She’s not the same person she was in high school, but in a way, she is — then again, Tobio has always been able to  _ see her, _ in the same way she can so naturally peel away their put-upon defenses. 

Rubbing a leave-in conditioner through her ends, she leaves her hair to air dry and turns her attention to her face. Second puberty was not the kindest regarding her complexion, and even two years later, she cuts no corners in addressing it. Tobio finds her massaging a judicious amount of vitamin C serum into her cheeks. 

“Braids today?” they ask, setting a tumblr filled with pinkish smoothie down on the counter. 

Tsukki wipes off her hands and takes a long, happy sip. “Think you can pull off those handkerchief waves?” she shoots back. 

Tobio’s nose wrinkles. Handkerchief waves take a while, to ensure the hair wraps properly around the cloth and doesn’t dry with a funky kink. “Only if you curl mine tomorrow.” 

They reach for the drawer of hair styling supplies. Tsukki stops them with a harmless wrist slap. “Masks first, please.” Opening the cat mask, she unfolds the thin sheet into a single layer and waits until Tobio can clip back their bangs. “Press day tomorrow?”

Eyes closed, Tobio tilts their face upwards and lets Tsukki align the mask. It makes Tobio look like a calico house cat, complete with long black whiskers that Tsukki traces with her fingertips as she presses the cool cotton onto their skin. Tobio pretends to only tolerate the treatment for Tsukki’s sake, but the truth is in the way their brow softens and their breathes slow down. 

“Yes,” they mumble, “Matsuda-san scheduled a full day. Fan meet and greet in the morning, and a podcast interview after lunch.” 

Tsukki smiles and bops their feline nose. “Such a popular kitty cat.” 

“It’s annoying.” 

She gives them a pointed look as she settles the panda mask onto her own face. “You know  _ why. _ ” 

Tobio grimaces. It is hard to avoid the press completely when you snap at a famous talk show host during a group interview live on the air. As far as Tsukki is concerned, it was completely warranted. The host got nosy with her comments on the citrine stud newly pierced through Tobio’s ear, not to mention the shimmering blue turtleneck that did  _ not _ come from the men’s department. 

From the couch at home, Tsukki watched her partner wind and tighter at the invasive questions disguised as lighthearted prodding, the furrow between their brows getting deeper and deeper, until — 

An annoyed Tobio does not stay silent for long. 

And since then, Tobio makes a specific effort to use their off-court appearances to express the other sides of themself. More complex hairstyles, skirts. Last time, they wore metallic lipstick in a perfect Schweiden Adlers cobalt blue. 

“I don’t regret it.” Tobio reaches forward to play with the ties of her robe; not suggestively, just seeking contact. “But I still don’t get why everyone wants to talk about it. I made my opinions perfectly clear.” 

Tsukki laughs, catching those nervous fingers and squeezing them.  _ “I’m here to discuss volleyball,” _ she mimics, exaggerating her frown. 

“It’s not funny!”    


It was funny, enough to spawn several gifs and a meme, editing Tobio’s scowling face into various situations: a presenter giving a TedTalk, a person on a romantic date, outside a bedroom window.  _ I’m here to discuss volleyball. _

It was hysterical, and Tobio knows it, so Tsukki only grins. Leans forward briefly to nudge their sticky foreheads together. 

“It was perfect.” 

Tobio huffs, leans away. “This mask itches.” 

Her grip on their fingers tightens. “Leave it alone. Four more minutes.” 

Tobio grumbles. If Tsukki spends the next four minutes kissing a smile onto their lips, well. Four minutes, very well spent. 

Skin wiped clean, Tsukki drags a stool into the bathroom while Tobio digs through drawers to unearth the combs, hair oils, tiny elastics, and handkerchief scraps necessary to give their girl the coiled waves she desires. Tsukki sits in front of the mirror, sipping her smoothie contentedly. 

Tobio settles behind her, fingers flexing. It’s methodical, how those setter hands comb through her damp waves, teasing out the tangles and knots. The gentle scratch of calluses across her scalp soothes, lullaby-soft, washing down her shoulders in a wave of white noise. 

Bless the Kageyama siblings and their magic hands. 

Silence is a comfortable thing between them. Saturday mornings are sacred during the off-season. Later, there might be noise: perhaps they’ll catch up on the podcast they both enjoy, or eviscerate a tacky foreign movie. Or perhaps they could walk down to the bubble tea shop —  _ ooh, _ now that’s a thought. 

As Tobio guides a comb from roots to tips, Tsukki reaches for her phone and shoots off a text. 

**tsukki:** meet for tea later?

**tadashi:** hell yeah! tobes coming too?

**tsukki:** invite hinata

**tadashi:** oof you must be craving it lol 

She locks her phone as Tobio reaches across her shoulder, hiding a grin around her smoothie straw. “Hinata wants to get bubble tea later.” She doesn’t sound the least bit casual. 

Tobio stares, eyes flat. “Does he?” 

“I...might want some too.” 

“You can go without me.” Tobio grimaces, as though they can already sense their volleyball rival directing his considerable energies towards the setter from his apartment across the city, like a laser pointer to the back of the head. “You don’t have to enlist the troops.” 

Tsukki reclines, back against their thighs. She tilts her head until it rests on his stomach, and she can look at them. They are just as handsome upside down. “But I want to go with you. That’s the point.” 

“I don’t even like boba.” 

Tsukki blinks innocently. “You like me.” 

Tobio pinkens, rolls his eyes but not fast enough to hide the tenderness that swells up. They don’t respond; cool fingers guide her head back upright and begin to section off chunks of hair. 

“This smoothie is good.” 

Tobio nods. “You’re welcome.” 

Tsukki pokes the remains with her straw, catching Tobio’s gaze in the mirror. “Could use more strawberries, though.” 

They get more pink; it’s delightful. “I could walk away,” they snap, gesturing threateningly with the comb. “You can do this yourself.” 

But they don’t. Patient hands wind strands of gold around a cotton rag, smoothing and adjusting. A spritz of hairspray, more wrapping, then tied off with an elastic. Tsukki lets her eyes go half-lidded, smile small and soft as she finishes her drink and brushes kisses on the backs of Tobio’s fingers. When it’s done, Tobio tilts her chin back again and kisses her long and slow. 

They putter around, finishing their routines. Tobio files their nails, Tsukki massages lotion onto her legs. Armed with a blowdryer and more hairspray, she is unrolling the last rag, releasing the artful golden coils — Tobio is somewhere in the bedroom, hunting for a bralette — when the doorbell chimes and Hinata’s boisterous voices comes echoing down the hall. 

Tsukki unleashes her small friend on Tobio and catches up with Tadashi as the setter and spiker bicker from the bedroom. 

Eventually, they go out, and Tsukki tangles their fingers together while they walk with Tadashi. Hinata runs ahead to pet another dog. They pass a dress boutique. Tadashi stops to drool over a sundress covered in stars and won’t uproot from the sidewalk until the group vows to come back after tea and try things on. Even Hinata agrees. 

Tobio will grouse, mumble about redheaded terrors hijacking their day off, but Tsukki will see the softness in their eyes and know the complaints are just noise. 

During a small moment alone outside the dress boutique changing rooms, while Tadashi wrestles Hinata into a skirt, Tsukki wraps an arm around their waist and squeezes. 

“Let’s watch something tonight,” she says quietly. “You can choose.” 

Tobio’s head tilts in contemplation, and she can’t help but kiss their hair. “Okay.” 

“We could watch something about... _ volleyball,” _ Tsukki says, dropping her voice into a teasing whisper. 

“Hah?” 

“And afterwards, we could... _ discuss it _ .” 

Tobio frowns. “You’re making fun of me.” 

“Yes,” she sighs happily. “I am.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! comments and kudos are adored. this author responds to comments. <3 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/greenywrites)  
> 


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